


A Little Whiskey and a Loose Tongue

by Tangela



Series: Boy toy named Troy used to live in Detroit [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Drinking, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Hand Jobs, Let Connor get drunk, M/M, Robot Sex, Smut, Wire Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-02 21:22:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15804834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangela/pseuds/Tangela
Summary: Connor gets an upgrade that allows him to drink, and drunk Connor is much more open about his feelings.





	1. Chapter 1

When Hank had told Connor that he was heading to the bar after work, he had already braced himself for the usual lecture.

“May I come with you?” Connor asked.

That was the last thing Hank had expected to hear.

“You. Want to come to the bar. With me.” Hank wasn’t sure if he’d heard him right.

Connor nodded. “Was I not clear enough?”

Hank threw on his coat. “Alright, but don’t start complaining when you get bored of watching me drink.”

Connor just followed him out the door with a little smile on his face.

\--

“Double whiskey, neat.”

“I’ll have the same,” Connor said, tapping the bar, and Hank just looked at him.

“You can’t drink, what’s the point-”

Connor held a finger up as he was handed his drink, and proceeded to down the whole thing in one go.

“I’ve had an upgrade,” he announced, with a slight hiccup.

Hank looked impressed. “Shit, look who just got a lot more interesting all of a sudden.”

Connor smiled, looking very proud of himself. “Same again, please.”

“How long were you planning on keeping this from me?” Hank asked.

“Until your next visit to the bar, which I knew wouldn’t be very long.”

“Hey, watch your mouth.” Hank lifted his glass, clinking it against Connor’s. “To the wonders of technology.”

The change in Connor was almost immediate. By the second drink, he was a lot more relaxed. He’d taken his jacket off and rolled his sleeves up, and Hank was having a hard time not staring.

_It’s the drink._

By the third drink, he’d noticed that Connor kept touching him in some small way, squeezing his arm or patting his knee.

_It’s the drink._

By the fourth drink, Connor was leaning on the bar with his head resting on his hand, intently looking at Hank as he talked. Hank had never noticed how handsome he was when he smiled.

_It’s the drink._

By the fifth drink, Connor was out of commission. He had made the mistake of trying to go drink for drink with Hank and was now slumped against the bar, a row of empty glasses lined up neatly in front of him. Hank was pretty drunk himself, but then compared to Connor, he was a veteran at this. He pulled out his wallet and threw a few bills down on the bar. He looked again with a sigh, throwing a few more down.

“Come on, party animal, time to go” he said, putting Connor’s arm around his shoulder and helping him to his feet. Connor was no help at all, not much more than a giggling dead weight. Hank managed to hail a cab, bundling Connor into the back with a promise to the driver that Connor wouldn’t throw up. The driver didn’t look so sure. Hank wasn’t either.

When they arrived home, Hank had to drag Connor out of the car and into the house. He dropped him down on the couch. Connor was still giggling.

“What’s so funny?” Hank asked.

“I have a secret,” Connor admitted with a smile, eyes half-closed and limbs sprawled across the couch.

“What is it?” He was starting to like drunk Connor. He let him drink a lot more for one thing.

Connor clumsily sat up. “Okay.”

He tried to focus on Hank.

“Okay,” he started again.

Hank noticed that Connor’s LED was spinning on amber, and now that he thought about it, it had been for a while. Surely that wasn’t normal.

“You sure you’re alright? Your light’s gone a funny colour,” he said, gesturing to his temple.

Connor turned around. “What light?” he asked, and started laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world.

Hank had seen some shit in his time, but a piss drunk android was right up there with the weirdest.

“Connor,” he called, trying to get his attention.

Connor turned around again, that dopey smile still on his face. Hank had to admit – it suited him, none of the weight of the world and the next assignment on his shoulders for once.

“What’s your secret?” he asked, slowly, as if he was talking to a child.

Connor’s expression suddenly turned very serious, as if he was about to impart some bad news.

“I like someone, but you have to promise not to tell anyone,” he said in a loud whisper.

Hank was trying his best to hold back a laugh. “Okay, I promise.”

Connor gestured for Hank to move closer.

“I really like Hank,” he whispered, and started giggling again.

Hank had no idea what he was supposed to do. Connor was joking, right? There was no way he was that drunk. Then again…he’d never seen him like this before, and his LED hadn’t been blue since around the first two drinks at the bar. The last thing he wanted was to upset Connor, and considering how wildly his simulated emotions were swinging at the moment, he could only imagine how bad it would be if he did.

“You won’t tell him?” Connor asked, and he was looking at him so sincerely that Hank believed him. Even he wasn’t that good a liar.

“’Course not,” Hank promised, making an exaggerated X motion across his chest. “Cross my heart.”

Connor tried to copy his movements with a confused look on his face.

“What does this mean?” he asked as he did it again.

“It means your secret’s safe with me,” Hank explained.

Connor just smiled that dopey smile again. He leaned in close to Hank, and alarm bells were going off in Hank’s head.

_He’s not going to-_

Before he could even finish the thought, Connor was slumped against him, fast asleep. Hank sighed, taking Connor by the arms and gently laying him down on the couch, pulling the throw blanket over him. He found himself just standing there for a moment, looking at Connor. Eventually, with another, much longer sigh, he took himself to bed.

\--

When Hank woke the next morning, it was to a headache and a horrible taste in his mouth. Considering the states he’d woken up in in the past, moderately hungover alone in his own bed was definitely an improvement.

He made his way into the kitchen, desperate for a cup of coffee to wake him up. Then he noticed an arm hanging off the side of the couch, and the night before hit him like a ton of bricks. He moved quietly over to the couch. Connor was still fast asleep, mouth wide open and hair a mess, chest rising and falling in a steady motion. He must have had a few more upgrades Hank didn’t know about. Other than the LED that was still blinking like a lost internet connection, Connor looked like any other hungover human being. Hank was curious as to how much, if anything, he remembered of the night before.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” he said, shaking Connor slightly.

Connor blearily opened his eyes. “...Where am I?” he asked, voice hoarse.

“You’re in my living room,” Hank told him, leaning over the couch to watch him. He had to admit, it was nice not to be in Connor’s situation for once, lost and confused and wondering how the hell he even got where he was in the first place.

“How…?”

Hank held up a hand to stop him. “Let’s start with what you remember.”

Connor slowly sat up. “I remember…us being at the bar, and we were drinking, and…When I try to access my memory after that, I keep receiving an error message.”

“You don’t remember anything else?”

Connor shook his head, looking at Hank with concern. “That can’t be normal, right?”

“’Course it is. It’s called a black out, I’ve had plenty of them. At least you woke up in one piece.”

“Is it supposed to be this unpleasant? I don’t feel good at all.”

“They really did a number on you with that upgrade, huh?” Hank said with a laugh as he went into the kitchen.

Connor groggily followed him. “They told me it was the closest thing to the real experience for androids,” he explained, “I should have asked for it without this part.”

“The hangover’s part of the experience. It’s supposed to teach you not to get into that state again.” Hank sat down. “’Course it doesn’t work, but it tries.”

Connor pushed his hair out of his face, and Hank found himself staring for a moment before busying himself with the kettle.

“What…happened? When we got back.”

“Well, you must’ve spent twenty minutes laughing at nothing, I tried talking to you but could get no sense out of you, then you passed out on the couch and I went to bed.”

It wasn’t a lie, Hank told himself, it just wasn’t the whole truth. Besides, Connor was wasted last night. There’s no way he could have meant any of it.

“I’m sorry if I was a nuisance,” Connor said sheepishly.

“You’re always a pain in the ass and you’ve never apologised for it, why start now?” Hank replied, but he was joking.

Connor managed a small smile. “I should probably get going, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time with my inappropriate behaviour.” He pulled on his jacket. “Thank you for looking after me last night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll…see you tomorrow,” Hank said. He was about to argue, tell him to stay a while longer, but what would that achieve? Connor couldn’t remember anything, and Hank knew he’d end up mentioning it and making things awkward between them. And they had just gotten to a stable stage in their friendship.

_I need to get drunk with him again, figure this shit out._

For the moment, he just let himself enjoy a moment of quiet, and think about what might have been.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cute little piece of fluff while I recover from writing so much smut (I'm only a little sorry). That being said, I might write a second chapter of this? With possibly a little 'they're both drunk and up for it why not' smut. Let me know! As always, thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

When Hank arrived at work the next day, Connor was already at his desk.

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” he greeted, as pleasant as ever. “You’re only ten minutes late today, that’s a definite improvement.”

Hank would have clocked anyone else for a comment like that, but he knew that Connor genuinely meant no harm by it and held his tongue.

“Gee, thanks,” he muttered, shrugging off his coat and sitting down at his own desk.

Mostly held his tongue.

He went through his usual routine, e-mails, returning any calls; all the while hoping Connor would mention their little altercation from the weekend. But Connor seemed to have no interest in revisiting the subject, to the point where it was as if he’d forgotten all about it. He’d said that he was having problems with accessing his memory, but Hank hadn’t expected him to drop it so suddenly.

_Or maybe I’m looking for something that isn’t there._

But Connor _had_ said what he’d said.

_Technology screws up all the time. Let it go, for fuck’s sake._

He tried to take his mind off it, and couldn’t help but notice that Connor had rolled his sleeves up to the elbow, jacket hanging on the back of his chair, like he had the night he-

“My sitting fully dressed seems to make people uncomfortable due to their own heat sensitivity in the warmer weather,” Connor told him.

“What?”

“I noticed you staring,” he offered by way of explanation.

_Fucking astronauts probably would’ve noticed me staring._

“Right,” Hank replied, as if he was barely listening, forcing his attention back to his computer screen. Something in his periphery kept distracting him, and he looked over to find Connor absent-mindedly running his fingers through his hair as he worked.

_Fuck it, just ask. Play it casual._

He cleared his throat.

 “Listen, uh…”

Connor turned his attention to Hank, a few strands of hair falling across his forehead. “Is everything alright?” he asked as he brushed his hair back into place with his hand.

Hank shook his head. “Never mind, it’s not important,” he said gruffly.

Connor just looked at him curiously.

_It’s gonna be a long fucking day._

\--

When five o’clock rolled around, Connor still hadn’t said a single thing, and it was driving Hank crazy. He hadn’t been able to pluck up the courage to try and ask again. He knew it was stupid, but he just didn’t think he could handle Connor explaining that there had been a fault in his system.

_Why is this bothering me so much? He’s a friend. That’s it._

Every time he told himself that, he felt his stomach twist, and that just annoyed him more.

“I’m heading out,” he said as he stood up.

Connor looked up. “Home?” he asked.

“Bar,” Hank told him, hoping to God he’d take the bait.

Connor just nodded, turning back to his terminal. “Have a good evening, Lieutenant.”

Hank chewed the inside of his cheek in annoyance. “Right. You too.”

_So much for that. Now what?_

“Hey, uh, you wanna come with me?”

He really didn’t want to have to ask, hoping Connor would have volunteered himself as he was growing more prone to doing these days, but fuck it. Hank wanted answers and he wasn’t one for waiting around. Maybe if they got drunk again…

“You’re asking me to accompany you?” Connor asked.

Hank shrugged. “There an echo in here? You coming or not?”

_God, you’re bad at this._

Connor switched off his terminal, lifting his jacket as he stood up. “I’d be happy to,” he said with a smile, following Hank out the door.

Hank was quiet the entire journey, his mind racing.

_Three drinks is his sweet spot. After that, he’s fucked and I can’t get any sense out of him. We have three drinks, and then-_

He had no idea what he was supposed to do after that. What if Connor was still too sensible to come home with him? He needed to talk to him, and he couldn’t exactly do that in a bar full of strangers, now, could he? But if Connor was still too sober to want to talk… He should have invited him home. But then how suspicious did that look? Like this wasn’t already shady as hell. Hank was beginning to regret ever opening his mouth.

“Can I ask you a question?” Connor asked as they entered the bar, pulling Hank from this thoughts.

“You just did,” Hank replied shortly. “What is it?”

“Why did you invite me along with you? It doesn’t seem fitting.”

Hank looked at him as he sat down. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the bar’s your place to get away from work. I’m a part of work, so I don’t understand why you’d want to voluntary mix the two.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, moron, we’re friends,” Hank said as they sat down, “Friends do things together, y’know.”

_Lord tell me why I’m still single._

Connor smiled to himself.

Hank all but sank his first drink, ordering another as soon as he sat the glass down. Nerves were really starting to get to him.

_What am I, a fucking teenager?_

“You not drinking?” he asked.

“I don’t want a repeat of last time,” Connor replied, and Hank felt his heart sank.

_Ah Christ, he remembers. He knows what he said._

“But…” he continued, “If I don’t drink as much, that shouldn’t happen again.”

Connor went through the same stages as he had last time. And just like last time, by the third drink he couldn’t quite keep his hands off Hank - little gestures that could easily be seen as friendly, but they were driving Hank mad. He was really starting to regret this whole thing, and his regrets were only growing as he had to remove Connor’s hand from his knee for the third time in about as many minutes.

He felt painfully sober, and Lord knows he was trying to fix that.

Connor seemed to have no notion of how uncomfortable he was making Hank, chatting about anything and everything as he usually did. And then, out of nowhere-

“I was able to access my memory data from when I “blacked out”.”

He couldn’t have waited until Hank didn’t have a mouthful of whiskey to spring that on him. He managed to swallow it, turning to look at Connor.

“Oh, really?” he asked, ever so casual. “What happened?”

“I went over the recommended unit limit and scrambled the program. I’ll be more careful this time.”

“That’s a shame, you’re wild when you’re drunk.”

Connor smiled, leaning in close to Hank. “I’d like to speak to you about something I said.”

_Here it comes._

“I’m all ears.”

Connor seemed to become visibly uncomfortable. That wasn’t like him.

“Preferably in private,” he said quietly, his hand on Hank’s arm.

Hank swallowed. “Sure, we could try and find a booth, or we could go outside?”

Connor shook his head. “A little more private than that.”

Hank nodded. “I guess it _is_ getting a little late. My place okay?”

Connor was already out of his seat. “I’ll call a cab.”

Hank just watched him go with a tired sigh.

_I am not drunk enough for this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few of you seemed interested in an extension to this, so here's another part! I've been seriously struggling with writer's block the past few days and am having a hard time writing to my own standards, so I sincerely hope this is okay. I'm working on the last chapter now (and yes, there will be a bit of smut). Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

And Hank had thought the trip to the bar had been hard on his nerves. This was even worse. Every possible scenario was swimming through his head, and although he wasn’t as drunk as he’d liked to have been, the booze was making it harder for him to process everything.

Connor was staring out the window, a blank expression on his face, as if he wasn’t aware of what was going on in Hank’s head. He had to know something, he was always scanning him for something or other.

_Just what the hell is he planning?_

Hank couldn’t stop his mind from racing and every minute Connor sat silent was just winding him up further. He wasn’t even fully aware of his surroundings until he was putting the key in his front door.

“Make yourself at home,” he said as he shut the door, switching on the light.

Connor just nodded, settling himself on the couch.

“I realise that asking for privacy to talk with no mention as to what it was about may not have been the best route to take,” he said after a time.

“Barely thought about it,” Hank lied as he sat down.

“I wasn’t quite sure when the appropriate time to bring it up would be for fear of making you uncomfortable, but as I said at the bar, I now have a full recollection of the night we drank together.”

Hank chanced a glance at him. “And?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“I believe I said some questionable things while I was under the influence.”

_Great, he’s going to blame the drink and I’ll have to pretend like it hasn’t been fucking with my head ever since._

“My wording was wrong, and there were clearly errors in my behavioural programming, but…I meant what I said.”

And there it was again – the hand on his knee, and that soft smile. Hank felt as if his head was spinning, and he knew it wasn’t the booze.

“Uh, about what?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“I do like you, Hank,” Connor said, fingers squeezing slightly, and Hank felt himself jolt under his touch.

“’Course you do, we’re friends,” Hank said gruffly.

He was determined to make Connor say it. Properly. Whatever “it” was even supposed to be.

Connor rolled his eyes. “I know you know what I mean.”

He moved closer to Hank, hand still on his leg.

“I find myself…enamoured with you,” he said, and his voice had dropped to barely more than a soft lull. “It’s nothing I was ever programmed for, but the feelings are there regardless.”

“I thought- I thought you could only simulate emotions,” Hank said, his brain trying to keep up with what was going on right now.

“Isn’t that what humans do too? Do you really experience emotions or are they just “programmed” into you at a young age by other people?” Connor asked, and Hank honestly wasn’t sure how he was supposed to answer that. “We could argue about it all night, but I was hoping we could do something more interesting.”

Hank swallowed. The room felt stiflingly hot all of a sudden. It wasn’t until Connor had  _crawled into his lap_ that Hank found his voice.

“What are you-?” he tried to say, but Connor pressed a finger against his mouth, cutting him off.

“You have two choices. One, you can tell me you don’t want this and we can blame the alcohol and never speak of it again. Or two…” Connor leaned in close, and Hank could feel his warm artificial breath against his face. "...You could let me show you just how much I like you."

“You’re a lot mouthier when you’re drunk, you know that?” Hank asked, hoping to God his voice would stay steady.

“I’m sure you can find a way to fix that,” Connor replied in a teasing tone.

As if Hank needed to be persuaded. He pressed a hand against the back of Connor’s neck, pushing him close to kiss him. Connor all too eagerly kissed him back, fingers gripping Hank’s shoulders. Hank dragged a hand down Connor’s back, pushing him closer, the other running along his thigh. Already he could feel Connor trembling, and he’d barely touched him.

“You alright?” he asked, drawing back to look at him.

Connor nodded. “Your touch is like an electrical current running along my surface- skin, and I can sense the fluctuations in your body and emotions. Everything you’re feeling, I’m feeling at an accelerated rate.”

“Sounds like quite an experience,” Hank murmured, pressing a kiss to Connor’s neck. “You enjoying it?”

Connor shuddered. “Yes, it’s…pleasant. More than pleasant, I feel…” He struggled to find the right words. “I feel more alive than I’ve ever felt.”

“But you are alive.”

“Not like this, this is…Hank, this is wonderful,” Connor said, and the look on his face was so sincere.

Hank huffed a laugh. “Fuck, you must be drunker than I thought.”

Connor placed his hands on either side of Hank’s face, leaning down to kiss him hard. “You make me feel like this,” he murmured against Hank’s lips. “No one else.”

_Who’d have thought an android could be so sentimental?_

Still, Hank couldn’t deny what it did to him to hear it. This wasn’t just about sex, Connor had done so much for him in such a short space of time, and he never asked for anything in return. Hank had never expected to feel anything for anyone again, not after everything that had happened in the last few years. And for it to be with an android…He’d certainly grown a lot lately.

Connor’s hands were sliding down his front, to his belt, undoing it and his trousers before Hank could even get a word in.

“Eager, aren’t you?”

Connor just smiled, sliding a hand into Hank’s underwear. Hank instinctively jolted at his touch, and he felt Connor do the same.

“Sorry, it’s uh, been a while,” Hank admitted.

“This is my first time, so you’ve nothing to feel ashamed of,” Connor told him.

“Shit, wait, shouldn’t we-” Hank let out a low moan as Connor dragged his hand up and down the length of his cock. “Shouldn’t this be a little more special than you getting me off on my couch?”

Connor continued his movements. “Would you rather I stop?” he asked, and there was no way Hank could be imagining it – Connor was  _teasing_  him.

“God, no,” Hank replied between shallow breaths. “But there’s- there’s gotta be something I can do for you.”

“Well, there is something…” Connor started, taking Hank’s hand and placing it on the back of his neck. Instead of skin like before, Hank could feel wires, as if Connor had pulled something loose.

_What the hell?_

“These wires run into my CPU and control my movements, feelings, just about everything. They’re very sensitive and shouldn’t really be used like this, but in small amounts, it’s fine.”

_Getting an android anatomy lesson with a hand around my dick. That’s a first._

“So, uh, what do I do?” Hank asked, voice strained. It was really hard to concentrate with Connor’s hand still doing what it was doing.

“Just move your fingers along the wires. Not too hard or you might seriously damage me.”

_No pressure, then._

Hank tentatively stroked his fingers along the wires, hoping to God he wouldn’t get electrocuted in the process, and the  _noise_ that came from Connor was nothing Hank had ever heard from him – a low, guttural moan.

“Please,” Connor sighed, “Do that again.”

_Fuck._

Regardless of how bizarre the situation was, Hank was going to end up coming in his pants like a teenager if Connor kept this up. He continued his movements, trailing his fingers along the wires until Connor was shaking, his head pressed against Hank’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, Connor, I’ve got you,” Hank murmured, daring to press a little harder. He had no idea how the hell any of this was supposed to work, but judging by the reactions he was getting, he had to be doing something right.

Connor was breathing hard, little moans and gasps escaping him as he quickened his pace against Hank, his free hand finding Hank’s and entwining their fingers. Hank knew he wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate, between Connor’s touch and the downright obscene noises coming from him.

“Fuck, Connor-” was all Hank managed in a strained whisper before he came, back arching and Connor still pressed against him.

He felt a little breath of a laugh against his skin as Connor slowed his movements against him, eventually removing his hand from his trousers. Hank continued dragging his fingers along the wires, speeding up as Connor’s breathing became quicker and shallower. It wasn’t long before he was trembling against Hank.

“ _Hank-”_  he cried, and Hank knew he was going to have a hard time hearing Connor say his name for a long time after this.

And then with a sharp gasp, Connor suddenly went limp.

_Shit shit shit._

“Connor, you alright?” he asked, turning his head to try and look at him.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he replied in a dazed voice, and Hank was able to breathe again.

“You scared the shit out of me, I thought I’d broken you.”

Connor smiled. “Sorry, that was far more stimulation than I’m used to.”

“Used to? You mean you’ve-”

Connor nodded. “It was an accident the first time. I was running repairs when I figured out I could do that.”

“The first time?”

_Kinky bastard._

Connor sat up. “Are you really going to judge me for it?”

Hank shook his head. “Not at all. I just didn’t expect it from you, of all…people. How does it work, anyway? I mean, do you…How do you…”

“I don’t orgasm, if that’s what you’re attempting to ask. At least, not physically, but the same feelings are involved.”

Hank was never going to get his head around technology.

“So, it was…good?” he asked. What was he supposed to say in this situation?

Connor nodded, sliding his arms around Hank’s neck and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“What ever happened to the obedient little machine that chased me out of Jimmy’s bar, huh?” Hank asked.

“He woke up,” Connor told him, and God if Hank could do anything but just stare at him. He really was beautiful like this, hair falling across his face and a lazy smile gracing his features as he looked down at him.

“What?” Connor asked with a little frown.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?” Hank murmured.

Fuck it, what did he have to lose at this point?

Connor laughed, a gentle, almost hoarse sound. He didn’t do it often, and it always did something to Hank’s heart to hear it.

“I was designed to be,” Connor told him casually, “It makes people more likely to trust me and open up to me, which is perfect for my line of work.”

“So you got people falling left and right for your pretty face? That hardly seems fair.”

“Look where I am right now. It seems to have worked perfectly on you.”

He was right, but that didn’t stop the heat rising in Hank’s face. “You’re right, I didn’t stand a chance against you. But…humour me, what was your plan if you’d confessed to me and I’d said no?”

“I knew you wouldn’t.”

Hank raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? And how’s that, smart ass?”

“When I accessed my corrupted memory data, I was able to detect changes in your voice and body temperature. If I had been alert and conscious of what I was doing, you’d have been more than willing to go along with whatever I might have proposed.”

The only thing Hank hated more than Connor being right was when Connor  _knew_ he was right.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” he said with a smug little smile.

Scratch that – Connor asking to confirm if he was right just to make Hank say it was far worse.

“You’re…not entirely wrong,” Hank answered reluctantly.

“Why can’t you ever admit when I’m right?”

Hank grabbed Connor’s tie, pulling him back down to kiss him, and Connor said no more about it. That was answer enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't really sure what to do with regards to Connor's anatomy this time 'round and thought wire play might be interesting, so I hope this reads alright. I might also have some angsty Reed900 up soon, if anyone is into that, and maybe a little something for Hank's birthday? Thank you for reading!


End file.
